In Which Shani Atones for her Sins by Way of Live Poultry

As some of you may have read on facebook, I made plans two days ago, on the phone, to meet my friend Alon in Jerusalem today, Thursday (and as those of you who read this on facebook know, I serendipitously ran into him an hour later at the train station in Tel Aviv when I was there to meet my cousin -- not an important part of my story, but nonetheless a funny coincidence).

We had not made any specific plans, but instead said that we would meet and figure something out from there. It wasn't until yesterday that he called me and said he had an idea. He would not tell me what it was, except that it involved live chickens, and that I was to dress in conservative, Jewish orthodox attire and meet him downtown at 10 am. The chickens threw me a bit, but every time that Alon and I spend time together, we end up doing something interesting and enlightening, and always very original. So, while it seemed an unusual set of instructions, I complied. But in between that conversation and the following day's activities, yesterday evening, I was to attend a concert at Beit Avichai as part of Jerusalem's piyut festival.

For those of you who are now staring blankly at the screen wondering what on earth I am talking about, I will tell you that one week ago, I didn't know what a piyut was either. Here is an explanation for those of you in need of internet validation, but in a nutshell, a piyut is a Jewish liturgical text set to music. In this case, the festival consists of concerts and lectures from around the Judaic world, making the event as much a world music festival as a celebration of Judaic liturgy. The particular concert that I attended was performed by a group of Libyan musicians, with very compelling and original instruments. I went in the company of a young man named Ben that I had befriended a few weeks ago (a connection made via the "friend-of-a-friend-back-home" network, as always), and a group of his colleagues from the Hebrew Union College, or the cantorial school. The concert was really fun, partly because of the music but also because many of the audience members seemed to know some of the melodies of the piyutim already, and were singing and swaying in time with the music. The concert was set in an outdoor courtyard, in perfect temperature (Jerusalem outdoors during the summer maintains an ideal climate), and we generally had a very good time.

That was yesterday.

This morning, I woke myself at 8:30, showered, and then realized from looking through my bag that I had not actually packed any orthodox-appropriate attire. This is odd for me, as some of you may realize, because the main requirement for a young religious Jewish girl is a long skirt, and as we know, that is not an unusual find in Shani's wardrobe; but in this case, I found myself without. So, I hopped upstairs, and after obtaining permission, rifled through my hostess' closet in search of something passable. I found a long, purple, corduroy skirt which seemed fitting, and paired it with my own clothes, a simple, modest, black t-shirt, and a long-sleeved, loose black jacket on top of that. Once I had french braided my hair to the side, you could not have picked me out of a lineup of young observant Jewish girls. I still find it interesting that wearing specific clothing and walking in specific areas can completely change your identity; in that garb, I was spoken to differently, treated differently -- especially once we reached our destination -- and what's more, I felt different. But all that is beside the point, so I grabbed my camera, and walked out of the door.

From there, I took a bus to Kikar Ziyon, the place I think of as the very center of Jerusalem, whether or not that is actually accurate, which is where I was to meet Alon. After briefly catching up over some coffee and a decadent pastry at the Kadosh Cafe, we set out towards Me'a She'arim, one of Jerusalem's oldest and most religious neighborhoods. It is one of the few places I've been to where I hear conversational Yiddish, where the modest conservative attire is enforced, and where every Jewish tradition is followed by everyone, without question. Stepping into Me'a She'arim feels like entering a whole different world. After some searching, some asking, and a bit of navigational luck, Alon and I came across a tent on the sidewalk. Inside the tent was a table with some laminated prayer cards on it, some Haredi Jews, a stack of boxes, and along one side of the tent a chicken run, fully stocked with noisy chickens.

I think it's time to explain.

In the Jewish tradition, Kapparot, or "atonements," are an ancient custom. It is believed that it is possible to release your sins from the previous year by transferring them to an object that is then sacrificed or destroyed. In many Jewish traditions, the person performing the kappara will use a bill of money, which he or she will then donate or invest in a worthy cause. The more archaic version is to inflict your sins on a live chicken, which is then donated to a needy family for their pre-Yom Kippur feast. For those of you who don't know, Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, begins tomorrow night at sundown and continues through Saturday night. It is a day in which people fast, symbolizing their sorrow and regret, in order to absolve them so they are then able to begin the new year with a clean slate. The customary time to perform the kappara, then, is before Yom Kippur begins. The ritual involves selecting a chicken, holding it with both hands, and moving it in a circle three times over your head while reciting a prayer of atonement. Then the chicken is not returned to the run, but placed in a box, ready to be delivered to its next destination.

I am happy to say that both Alon and I released our sins today, in time for Yom Kippur. I am even happier to say that I am not a witness to the next stop in the chicken's journey, but I do feel that I made an anthropological study today, and learned something about my religion that was I was not formerly acquainted with -- and above all, I got some very original photographs. :)